Abbandono
by fandomhive
Summary: Roderich Edelstein is an incredibly talented young pianist, with hopes of joining exquisite orchestras and performing at the most important of events. But he has one problem - his music lacks passion and life. Could this be fixed, or further damaged by the irritating and mysterious German that he becomes acquainted with?


Length: Twoshot  
Pairing: Prussia x Austria (Gilbert x Roderich) PrAus.  
AU: Human  
Rating: T

_._

Abbandono – With passion, even at reckless abandon.

Roderich scowled as his sweating face caught a reflection in the mirror. 3 hours. _Three long hours_ he'd spent, hunched over his latest task. The sheet music glared back at him. He knew each carefully practiced note off by heart – but somehow, no matter how hard he tried, the music just didn't sound _right.  
_Like something was missing_ – _andRoderich knew exactly the problem.

"Can you not read_? _**Abbandono**!_" _roared Francis, his finger stabbing the oh-so-familiar musical term. "_With reckless passion, Roderich! Do you want this piece to be as dull and lifeless as you?"  
_The Austrian barely had the time to scowl at his piano tutor as his hands glided effortlessly across the keys.  
"Faster!" demanded the Frenchman, his lip curling in disgust. "You will _never _land a place in the orchestra if you cannot spur any emotion from your work!"  
Roderich continued, bashing the pedal furiously as the music graduated towards a crescendo.  
"Abbandono! _Try harder!"_  
Roderich could feel both his brain and his body pushed to the limits as he perched on the seat, fingers dancing across the keys. Through tearful eyes he finished the piece, falling back upon the piano in defeat.  
Francis silently stood, picking up his papers. "That's enough for today, Edelstein. Go and get some rest. But before you go, remember that even a _prodigy_ can slip from the pedestal."

Roderich didn't bother to answer, breathing heavily upon the instrument with his eyes shut tight. He barely even noticed the complete stranger that had followed in after Francis. The stranger with white hair and burgundy eyes, who was stifling back laughter.  
"_You look like you've just been fucked over a piano." _Laughed the boy, causing Roderich to jump.  
"Who the bloody hell are you?!" demanded the Austrian.  
"Gilbert Beilsch-_wait. _I know you!" spoke Gilbert, a smug grin on his face. "You're Ronald Edelstein!"  
"-Roderich."  
"Whatever. You won that award, didn't you? Best piano player in the University!"  
"-Best _International Young Musician."  
_"Right. You did that piece by Beethoven."  
_At least he got something right.  
_"Yes, actually. A personal adaptation and extension of 'The Moonlight Sonata'."

Gilbert snorted. "Whatever. I was only guessing."  
The brunette glared in response. "Well. Now that we've established that you're a culturally insensitive fool, may I ask why you've found your way into _my_ room?"  
The German shrugged. "Don't know."  
Roderich sighed heavily. "Then leave, please. I'm having an emotional crisis at the moment and I'd rather suffer it alone."  
"No, I'd rather watch." Another smug grin.

Roderich gave up. He decided to continue his practice – reluctantly so, due to the infuriatingly annoying boy beside him.  
Within seconds Roderich found it easy enough to melt back into the familiar opening melody, eyes shut, the way he always played. But as he felt the crescendo looming ahead, the once friendly notes caused Roderich to tense up, his eyes flying open in stress. By chance they caught Gilbert's.

The white haired boy appeared simply lost in the contours of the music, his palms in his cheeks and his gaze distant. His mouth was slightly parted in shock and it was clear to see that he was enjoying it. That was, until he noticed Roderich staring. Gilbert snapped up in embarrassment, feeling his pale skin flush red. "Is that all you can do?" he teased. "My _brother _can play better than you, and he's _totally_ tone deaf! SO not awesome."  
Roderich simply laughed coldly to disguise his now rapid heartbeat.  
_Gilbert looked so utterly entranced before. I have to let him get back to that again._

"…I mean, what is this, _twinkle twinkle little star?" _continued Gilbert, the arrogant tone creeping back in to his voice. "Your music is hurting my ears! Do it better!"  
Roderich didn't even grace him a reply – but the music spoke for him. Each note was perfectly hit, the pace flawless. As the piece reached its great crescendo, Roderich played with more life, more _passion _than he had ever done in his entire life. A grin of victory on his face, he finished, collapsing on the piano in sheer exhaustion.

It took Gilbert a small while to snap out of his music-induced trance and realise that the princely pianist had fell unconscious. Gently, he picked him up and carried him into his bed. Once he was inside, curled up in the covers and blissfully unaware of it Gilbert stooped down. He paused, before whispering, "That was _beautiful."_


End file.
